


The Long Run

by Anonymous



Series: L'Manburg's Rise And Fall, As Told By Children In Soldiers' Clothing [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), mcyt
Genre: A lot of Hurt, Abuse, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Because Karl, Cat hybrids exist so I made the awful decision of catboy H and all of you have you deal with it now, Dream SMP Festival, Eret has a bit of a role, Family Dynamics, Fireworks, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Hybrids, Implied/Referenced Abuse, In later chapters - Freeform, Incredible amounts of angst, Injury, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Karl showed up because I miss him chat, Llamas, Manipulation, Villain Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Violence, and a lot of it, big bro Quackity, but brief, he was manipulated into running w him, he's just a kid too, if they die they die, karl content pog, no beta but we're Technoblade so we never die, no respawn, people keep forgetting that :(, quackity wants no part of working with Schlatt, the first few chapter are lighter, trigger warnings will be put on each chapter, you're welcome.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27547570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Quackity is a lot of things— smartly stupid, loud, one-fourth swan, one-fourth duck— but he isn't family centered.Tubbo is a lot of things— stupidly smart, energetic and chaotic, one-half goat— and he'll cling to whatever family he has left.One thing leads to another, and suddenly the teens are forced to rely on each other, gripping at whatever strands of familiarity they can find in J. Schlatt's chaotic new world.They're in it for the long run.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Toby Smith | Tubbo, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: L'Manburg's Rise And Fall, As Told By Children In Soldiers' Clothing [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013610
Comments: 308
Kudos: 828
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Quackity

**Author's Note:**

> Hullo hallo hello! Welcome to The Long Run!
> 
> As stated in the tags, the first two or so chapters won't be super heavy. They develop and introduce the central characters, which will be Tubbo and Quackity!
> 
> Trigger warnings will always be put at the beginning!
> 
> TW: none

Quackity has never really pictured himself as a family sorta guy. 

He was loud and brash and trusted with minimal doubt. He saw people at face value and judged them as such. If they looked frightening, he'd be afraid; if they looked kind, he'd be less rude; if they looked like a snot-nosed kid with a knack for trouble, he'd get into trouble with them. Simple as that.

So when J. Schlatt proposes a coalition, Quackity agrees without much thought. Schlatt presented himself as a poise businessman with a good head on his shoulders and common sense between the ears. Quackity was some hybrid kid running for the fun of it, diving in without a plan, wings spread and lungs screaming. 

He meets Tubbo a few days before the results are announced. The kid is all hunched shoulders, flicking ears, and big plans. He's smarter than he looks, Quackity will give him that, and his personality is hard to pin. One day he'll be stammering and stumbling, and the next he'll be running around and burning things or building traps like his life depends on it. Quackity often sees the boy covered in bandaids, some even spanning to his small horns.

(Can horns even get hurt like that, Quackity wonders, or were the plasters Tommy and Wilbur's doing, a result of worry and overbearance?)

He is proud to declare that he's got a few matching scrapes and bruises from joining in Tommy and Tubbo's antics, laughing around before booking it. They are just teenagers, after all, no matter how mature they show themselves to be. 

(Quackity wonders if Wilbur's forgotten that, from what he's heard of L'Manburg's war)

They're quick friends, the three, and Tommy even goes as far as to dub Quackity ‘Big Q’. Tommy is, of course, ‘Big T, original’, while Tubbo's nickname switches between ‘Little T’ and ‘Big T’. It seems to depend on the situation, which confuses Quackity, so he personally calls the middle of the three ‘Twobo’.

In a hilarious moment of pun-foolery, Wilbur comments about how much Quackity's taken the two under his wing. Quackity responds by reaching over and smacking the president in the face with one of said wings. They're magnificent things: mostly a grey-brown color, but in the right light, one could catch the dark green-blue sheen of his secondary feathers. They span a few feet, and look much too large to belong to a duck hybrid. Quackity blames it on his father, who had the audacity to be a swan hybrid (in the most loving way possible, of course— Quackity simply took after his mother in terms of color scheme).

It's easy to hide pointed, feather-y ears with long hair and a well-placed beanie, even if he doesn't particularly need to. L'Manburg and its surrounding areas were taken up by a majority of hybrid residents. It was incredible— from goats to ducks, to foxes and fish, hell— even endermen and blazes! Demons made appearances sometimes, the most noted being Tommy, who was a permanent resident, and Bad, who was only half, and showed up when he wanted to. Quackity had never met an angel or half-angel, but he'd heard stories. 

The only humans around were those who were accepting, or just didn't care. Dream, while completely human, had taken on the role of a protector, and the land had grown and grown and grown. Quackity hears stories about how it started as just him, in a small house in a field, and he doesn't quite believe it. How could one man make a sanctuary for hundreds? 

(Not hundreds, not yet, but it was definitely getting there)

Quackity does not think that Dream is human, but he seems to be the only one of that opinion.

For now, he'll stay on the sidelines. He makes his deal with J. Schlatt, and does not believe it will go very far. Wilbur is a popular candidate with people he's been with since the beginning making up a majority of the small town. Even Fundy and Niki are more acquainted with the people than Quackity is, than Schlatt is, and their campaign is even more of a joke than Swag. They're good people, Quackity thinks.

All that he can do for the time being is wait, and he is fine with that. He'll talk to his fellow citizens, he'll run around and goof off with Tubbo and Tommy, and he'll think about building a home. Maybe he'll help Tubbo build his up again, since it's been burnt to it's skeleton. Or he'll help him move in with Tommy— the three had been staying there all this time, anyway, it might as well be called home. 

He might as well call them his little brothers.


	2. Tubbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo won't let go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo intro chapter!!!
> 
> This would've been longer, but I've been at my grandparents' all day, and couldn't write a whole lot. The good news is that this is just and introduction, so it doesn't have to be completely thought out xjfncnndncns
> 
> TW: none

Tubbo clings to his scrappy, hand-sewn family with chewed up nails and band-aid fingers, and refuses to let go.

He gets attached too easily and too quickly, and trusts too deeply, or so he's been told. He is smart, and he knows his way around people. He gives the impression of a child, too pure and trusting to be in this mess, but the reality is that they are not in war, and he is much different in war. He's got plans that rival Dream himself, knowledge that would make his enemies quake. But he chooses to be sweet, and chooses to care instead of hate.

He hasn't ever had a family, always been on his own, so when he meets Tommy, Fundy and Wilbur, he holds on with everything he has. Tommy becomes his younger brother and Fundy and Wilbur his elders. They're a rag-tag family, two fox hybrids, a half-demon, and a goat hybrid, but they're a family nonetheless. Eret joins later, blank eyes and bright smiles and sibling-like hugs. Tubbo opens his arms and drags them into his family.

(Tubbo does not care that Eret betrayed him, he won't let them go, he can't— they're family, and he doesn't want to lose that— he is afraid.)

He lets Wilbur fuss at his horns, plaster them up even if Tubbo knows the chipped bits won't ever grow back or heal, because big brothers are supposed to worry, and who is he to stop him? He lets Tommy drag him around and gets in trouble with him, knowing he'll come out with small scrapes, because that's what younger brothers do, and Tubbo likes causing trouble with Tommy.

Tubbo meets Quackity a few days before the elections and immediately hits it off with the older teen. Whether he knows or likes it or not, Quackity is added to Tubbo's family. He pulls the older boy around with him and Tommy, the three getting into all sorts of issues, bruises and scratches and laughter following. Wilbur scolds them, Tommy bites back, Quackity laughs, and Tubbo just nods with a grin.

(In another life, he would've teased Wilbur with Tommy, but some part of him still believes the man to be his commander—and he is the president after all.)

So Tubbo sticks to his own lines, not quite the side, but not quite the center, passing his burnt home, spending nights at Tommy's house-slash-embassy with Quackity. He votes for Wilbur, and sticks with his younger brother. He and Tommy let Quackity's wings shield them from nightmares, and then tease him for hovering in the mornings.

He cleans his L'Manburg uniform with pride, wears it daily with a bright smile, and lets the hat sit oddly between two horns, floppy ears, and tangled blonde locks. He lets Wilbur futz around and squash it down to 'try and make [him] look nice', and laughs, because he's never tried to look nice in his life. 

He holds his family close, and he will never let go of them, no matter what, he decides.

And if he's worried about the following days, no one needs to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	3. Quackity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quackity is smart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided that the chapters for this story are going to be shorter than the ones for TWPBIWO, since that's my main project, and this one has a plot I can't wait to get to.  
> Also this might end up being Quackity-centric, which was unplanned, but it's just so fun to write him :D
> 
> That being said, this chapter starts the heavier topics.
> 
> TW: manipulation, implied abuse

Wilbur stands on the podium, reading out the results. 

Quackity knows he'll win, that L'Manburg will continue to rise under its founder's gentle gaze. He has low hopes for his coalition, his running mate not even bothering to show for the event. He'll head back to Tommy's after this, celebrate with him and Tubbo, help move the older of the two into the dugout. So he leans back in his chair with an easy smile, testing his luck on the back two legs.

And then Wilbur announces the coalition, announces that they've one by one percent. Quackity's chair thunks back as he jumps up with a surprised shout. It turns to his own cheering, looking over at Schlatt, who's got a look he can't quite place. He flings an arm over the older man's shoulder anyway, still cheering.

"Yessir! Yeah, baby, we did it!" He whoops.

He glances over at Wilbur and Tommy, who while looking disappointed, give him smiles anyway. He grins right back at them, still floating from the win. 

(Quackity doesn't remember the last time he's won something, come in first place, been number one)

He watches them make their way down to the audience, and watches them group back up with Tubbo, who smiles at them, gives them hugs, and sits back down. Schlatt steps up to the microphone, and Quackity trails after him. 

The teen is wearing an actual suit for the event, figuring that even if he didn't win, he should look nice. His hair is tugged back out of his eyes for once, beanie nowhere to be found. He feels like he belongs on this podium, like he can make this place home if he really tries. And he wants to try. So he lets Schlatt speak first.

"Well," The low tone is unexpected, but everyone celebrates differently, so Quackity doesn't think much of it, "That was easy."

He barely processes the rest of the speech, chiming in with 'yessir's and 'woo's when he thinks it's appropriate. Until people start screaming. Until he tunes back in, drags himself down from the high of victory, until he looks down and sees Tommy and Wilbur being chased out— _shot at_.

He sees Tubbo stumble up to follow them, he hears Schlatt call Tubbo up, he watches Tubbo struggle up the hill on shaking bones and rattling teeth.

"I need you," Schlatt keeps his low tone, dangerous, "to find Tommy, and show him the door."

Quackity watches Tubbo practically sprint away, calling for Tommy. It can't be that serious, he reasons with himself, he's seen Wilbur's power, the man loves his nation and would do anything to oversee it, he justifies it. Wilbur has to go, or he'll hurt everyone. The walls have to come down, because Wilbur was trapping them inside, there wasn't enough space. Tommy would follow Wilbur, and Tommy was far more temperamental, would cause more destruction.

(Quackity wonders which words belonged to him, and which to Schlatt)

Schlatt leads him to the White House after Tubbo is sent on his chase. 

"Quackity, do you know why I made you my vice president?"

"Because we pooled the votes together..?"

Quackity isn't sure where the conversation is going. He simply follows Schlatt to the president's new office and stands straight-backed as the elder lazes down into his chair.

"Because you have potential, and I can see it, kid. I mean, look at you! You know, when you offered that coalition, I asked myself, 'what can this scrawny, dirty looking _child_ possibly offer me'? And here you are, all cleaned up and lookin' spiffy! You know, people will take you so much more seriously if you keep it up."

Schlatt drawls, leaning on a hand, and Quackity can tell that something is off. He's getting red flags, but at the same time, he hasn't heard that before. Hasn't heard about having potential. He's being taken seriously. He can't believe it.

"So I want to make a deal."

"Again, sir?" Quackity's head tilts in confusion.

"Again, Quackity. All I'm asking is that you stick by my side. In return, I can make you great. You're smart, and not to mention funny. I've seen you before this silly election, and I have to ask, why did you let them walk all over you? You're not just a punchline, Quack— can I call you that? I'm calling you Quack— you're not a joke. And I can help show them that!"

Schlatt stands and walks around his desk, holds a hand out.

"What do you say? All you gotta do is be on my side."

Quackity fiddles with the tight bun he'd put his hair in for the event, brushing back flyaway hairs as he thinks his decision over. Maybe the flags are red herrings. Schlatt is smart, and in the long run, Quackity doesn't see himself as a very good pawn, so he drops one hand to his side and holds the other out. 

Shaking the devil's hand and watching his smile grow, Quackity trusts himself to be able to get himself out of anything bad that is to happen (if it happens at all). He's strong, and like Schlatt said, he is smart. Smart enough to not be manipulated. 

Quackity is smart.

* * *

He's not smart enough to stay awake long enough for Tubbo to return, to hear a slap ring out as the teen tells Schlatt he can't find Tommy or Wilbur. 

Quackity swears to himself, he's too smart to fall for anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets worse as this goes on, so please, please be careful and safe!!! 
> 
> I completely forgot that I'd written a very short Technoblade story about the festival a while back, and I got a notification from it today, so I decided to add it to the series ✌️


	4. Tubbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sun rises on Schlatt's first day as ruler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The SMP plot is so good,,, like seriously??? Wilbur's scripting is epic. The holes in his ghost memory lining up with his spiralling????? Smart
> 
> That being said, 
> 
> TWs: abuse, denial of abuse

Tubbo wakes up before the sun, from a nightmare he doesn't quite remember. 

He sits up in his bed (it isn't his bed, it isn't his bed, it isn't his bed, it's a just room in the White House, it's a cage, it isn't his, it'll never be his) and hugs himself until he sees light peeking through the window. The sun still hasn't risen, but it will soon. 

It'll rise over this L'Manburg, this place that no longer feels like home. 

The rough knock on the door startles him enough that he jumps, and he freezes when he hears the voice behind it.

"Tubbo, my secretary of state! You'd better wake up, you have a busy day!" Schlatt calls, and even if his voice is drowned in honey and sugar, a bitter taste fills Tubbo's mouth.

"Y-yessir, Schlatt, sir."

He waits until he can't hear any more footsteps before he releases his breath. He didn't even know he was holding it. A shaky hand reaches up and ghosts his cheek. He can still feel the sting of yesterday's slap, and he's just glad it didn't leave a mark. It was a one-time thing, so there was no need to tell.

(Were those his thoughts or Schlatt's words?)

He tugs on his uniform and straightens any wrinkles he can find. Tubbo decides to squish his hat on over his hair. He'd love to take care of the tangled, blonde mess, but he doesn't want to be late, and he's just so tired, (and it would remind him of his exiled family) and he didn't bring a brush to the White House. He hopes Schlatt won't notice.

He wonders if Quackity gets the same red flags, the same fight-or-flight instinct whenever the older goat hybrid walks into the room. But Quackity isn't up, so Tubbo can't ask. It's a one-time thing, so there was no need to ask.

Tubbo is tasked with tearing down the walls, and he cries. Quackity tries to convince Schlatt that it isn't necessary, and Tubbo starts breaking them quickly after Quackity speaks up. He supposes his skittishness and fear comes from being part goat. It has to be, because the slap was a one-time thing, and there's no other reason for him to be afraid of Quackity falling under Schlatt's hand this time. 

So he hits the walls that used to be home as hard as he can with that pickaxe until Schlatt yanks him away. 

"Tubbo, did you even shower today? Jeez, it's like you don't care about upkeep! You stink, kid, and that uniform's really fucking dirty." The man practically drags Tubbo along with him, not waiting for Tubbo's response.

Tubbo thinks it's unfair— he's been up since before anyone else, and been working all day. Does Schlatt not know how sweat and dirt built up?

"And your hair! Seriously, Tubbo, what am I going to do with you?"

It's a one-time thing, Tubbo repeats to himself as he feels his scalp being yanked this way and that when Schlatt tries to untangle it with his hands (it isn't trying, it isn't helping, it's hurting, and Tubbo thinks Schlatt knows). 

"Get yourself a suit, kid, you smell and look like shit."

Schlatt walks off, and Tubbo is left with a nasty headache and muscles that burn from hours of non-stop work. When he sees Quackity gliding around and overseeing the deconstruction, Tubbo is jealous. 

Not of Quackity's position, but just that he has wings. Quackity can fly out of Schlatt's reach. 

(But why would Tubbo need to be out of reach? It's only a one-time thing. A mistake, really. Schlatt doesn't mean to hurt him. He's helping him maintain image, learn the proper way to behave in a position such as his)

(It's a one-time thing)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the halfway point :0
> 
> It gets worse before it gets better :(


	5. Quackity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quackity thinks George is a lucky man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visa chapter :(  
> Eret cameo :)  
> But visa chapter :(
> 
> TWs: dissociation, shouting, implied/referenced abuse, implied panic attack

He doesn't know how he's ended up here, or why Schlatt allows it, but Quackity can't help the swell of relief in his chest when he sees Wilbur Soot and Tommy Innit walk through the doors of the White House. They're here to get a one-day visa. He'll have to try to speak with them when they put it to use.

He sees the nasty looks they send his way, and he doesn't exactly blame them. He's on Schlatt's side, now, and is the reason he's in power. The duck hybrid stands rod-straight in a fine-pressed suit. His wings are perfectly groomed and his hair is in that bun again (he misses letting it fall over his eyes, he misses his beanie and his track jacket and sweats) and a neat, navy blue tie completes the look. Just as traitorous as the day of the election.

Quackity watches Tommy try to make eye contact with Tubbo, but the goat boy refuses to look up from the ground. It hurts his heart. Quackity is the youngest of a fuck ton of siblings and has never felt as connected to them as he feels to these two rough-and-tumble teenagers. He considers them more of his brothers than his own blood. It hurts to see them in pain.

(And he doesn't know about Tommy, but he knows for a fact that Tubbo's hurt goes beyond emotional)

(He doesn't know what to do)

(He can't save his pseudo-brother)

(He can't hold him when he cries, he can't patch him up when it's over, and he doesn't know if it's because he's scared of sharing a similar fate or because he's never in the right place at the right time or because Tubbo just looks so _scared_ when he comes around)

When he zones back into the conversation (he's had so much trouble staying in the present, being aware, it's so easy to zone out and forget), Eret's taken out a book and quill at Schlatt's demand. They set it on the ground and kick it over. It isn't the swiftest or nicest delivery, but Quackity understands their unwillingness to get any closer. 

It stops at Tubbo's feet, though, instead of Schlatt's. He picks it up with trembling hands, and not even a second later, Schlatt is _shrieking_ at him, curses flying and volume astronomical.

"Give me the fucking book, Tubbo!" He shouts, and Quackity's wings flare out in shock. 

Tubbo all but shoves the book toward Schlatt, trembling turned to full on tremors. Schlatt yanks the book out of his hands, and Tubbo _flinches_.

Tommy rushes forward, shoving Tubbo back (and oh, Quackity tries to ignore the _jolt_ in Tubbo's small frame, even if the contact was from a friend) and stepping between him and Schlatt. Tommy erupts in a volcano of curses and defense, Tubbo stumbling back further.

The panicking blonde is shaking so hard that he can barely get the handle of the closet door open, but he manages, and Quackity watches him shut the door swiftly. There's no lock on the supply door, but he knows the barrier itself probably makes Tubbo feel just a little safer.

(How could Quackity let it get this bad? Wasn't he supposed to be smart?)

He keeps an eye on the door, forcing his wings to uncomfortably settle before he's actually calm. Minutes pass and he turns his attention back to the meeting, back to Tommy's enraged expression and Wilbur's uneasy, worried eyes. Punz steps toward the closet.

In his peripheral vision, Quackity watches Punz open the door a crack and poke his head in. He nods once, and closes the door again. Another minute passes, and Tubbo emerges with a smile plastered on his pale face, shaky hands behind his back and resuming his position next to Schlatt like nothing's happened. 

Tommy opens his mouth, and Quackity is sure he's going to ask if Tubbo's okay, but Wilbur speaks first.

"We'll be leaving now," He leaves no room for argument, "Tubbo, please escort us out of Manburg." 

The way he says the country's name sounds like he's choking on it, like it's made of acid and knives. Quackity doesn't blame him. 

Tubbo looks at Schlatt for permission, who in turn grunts with an eye roll, "Did you not hear him, kid? _Get out of here_. Now."

Tommy and Wilbur turn around, all cautious glances and tense shoulders as they walk out, but Tubbo looks like he just can't get out fast enough. Quackity blinks and they're gone.

He takes Tubbo's spot next to Schlatt and tries to ignore the chill he gets when the man puts a hand on his shoulder. He finds himself drifting away again, zoning out and trying to ignore today. 

Quackity wishes he could sleep through it all like George.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visa chapter :(


	6. Tubbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo clings to his family and cries as slip between his shaky fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I told someone Tubbo got a hug this chapter,,,,,, never said it was happy :(
> 
> TW: implied/referenced abuse, Tommy Innit saying the fuck word

Tubbo is still shaking as he leads Tommy and Wilbur out of Manburg.

(He hates that name— it's L'Manburg, L'Manburg, L'Manburg)

His hands are folded neatly behind his straight back, hands in fists to mask the majority of his trembling. He keeps his smile tight on skin too pale to be healthy. Tommy whirls around as soon as they're out of earshot of the White House, as soon as they're at the tree line.

"Tubbo, what the fuck, man? Why do you let him _talk_ to you like that?" Tommy rants and raves as Wilbur observes quietly. Tubbo missed this noise.

Soon, though, Wilbur reaches a hand and sets it on his youngest brother's shoulder, "Tommy. We don't have enough time for this."

Tommy shuts up and does not look happy about it. Wilbur turns his attention to Tubbo, who instinctively stands a little taller.

"Tubbo, are you on our side or not?"

Tubbo glances back for a second, like Schlatt could be watching him from this far away. He nods carefully, "I'm on your side."

Wilbur nods, "Then I've got a job for you."

Tommy looks almost uncomfortable, shrugging Wilbur's hand off and crossing his arms. Maybe he's just upset, though, because his best friend is standing in front of him and looking so un-Tubbo-like that it hurts. 

Tubbo isn't supposed to look like he's welded to a ruler, his hair isn't supposed to be all nice-like, he isn't supposed to be shaking and trying to hide it, and his smiles shouldn't look so… scared. Tommy hates it. He wants to drag Tubbo to Pogtopia and never let anyone get near him again. Tubbo isn't _supposed_ to get hurt.

"I need you to be our spy on the inside," Wilbur says, speaking with his hands. Tubbo watches every movement with apprehension and nods.

"I can do that."

"And I need you to meet with us to tell us what you know. Not now, not now, but later. When you know more," The brunette's voice is commanding and convincing, smooth and easy to listen to. 

Tubbo nods again. His fists tighten behind his back. He doesn't want to be this close to freedom only to be thrown back into that hell.

(But he can't leave Quackity there, either. He'll be brave for the people he considers his brothers)

(He has to)

Tommy will deny it until kingdom come, but when he walks up to Tubbo, he's the first to initiate the hug. It feels so, so, _so_ wrong. Tubbo is the one that starts hugs, Tubbo is the clingy one, not Tommy.

Tommy squeezes his arms around his friend's small shoulders and tries to ignore the tremors. He tries to ignore how his brother (in all but blood) falls apart in his arms like he's made of crisp leaves underfoot. He doesn't ignore how Tubbo holds on like he'll die if he lets go.

He doesn't ignore the whisper he wasn't meant to hear: _"Don't make me go back, please, please, please,"_

Wilbur taps his shoulder again, and Tommy looks up. Quackity is looking out of the window with something akin to tense and buried fear in his eyes. He shakes his head minutely, but Tommy gets the message.

"Tubbo we need to go. I need to let go now."

He hates how his friend clings harder, like a lifeline. He just wants to save him.

"They can see us."

As soon as the words leave Wilbur's mouth, Tommy is met with cold air. He hates how quickly that makes Tubbo let go, like he's been burnt. 

Tubbo composes himself in record time, hands back behind himself, head straight and tall, smile plastered on like a sticker. If Tommy hadn't been the one hugging him, he would've thought he hallucinated the small breakdown. 

"We'll come back for you, I promise," Tommy mutters, and Tubbo watches the brothers disappear into the woods.

It feels like he's been blasted to bits and pieces, walking back to the White House. Tubbo just wants to go home.

He stands at Quackity's side once he's indoors, and tries to ignore the thinly veiled concern in the older teen's eyes by looking down at black sneakers.

The shoes are far from fancy, but they were all Tubbo had when Schlatt demanded formal wear. Tubbo recalls tossing green trainers into a cauldron of squid ink and letting them soak until they were so dark that they stained his socks.

He doesn't think about how that small scenario represented so much of L'Manburg, and so much of him, and so much of how it's all changed.

Schlatt stains them colors they were never meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey, halfway done!  
> Chapter 13 is epilogue so I'm not super counting it right now, so we're halfway through!


	7. Quackity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's really doomed Tubbo, hasn't he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit rushed— I may have an outline, but this chapter is literally the least thought out one so far fngnvnd
> 
> TW: abuse, self-deprecating thoughts

Quackity knows by now that Schlatt is a cruel, cruel man.

But Quackity is smart, so he never falls under the man's hoof-tipped hands. But Quackity is an absolute idiot, so he never notices that Tubbo does.

Schlatt has never physically hurt him, so Quackity counts himself as lucky and perfectly fine, and assumes that he has never physically hurt anyone else. He hears the occasional crash and thump, but he tells himself that it's just a result of the man stumbling and knocking something over. He hears the occasional sob, and tells himself that Tubbo is an emotional boy who just misses his friend.

(Or maybe Schlatt is the one telling him these things, brushing it off like the weather)

(And Quackity finds himself believing him)

The winged teen doesn't know what compels him, doesn't know what crazy force tells him that he should, but when Tubbo starts covering his eyes with his hair, Quackity brushes it to the side.

He's met with icy blue eyes, both sporting twin bruises. The bridge of his nose looks crooked, and Tubbo looks so scared and drained of color that Quackity is sure he's going to pass out. 

Tubbo flinches back so violently that Quackity briefly and irrationally wonders if he's hit the boy (he hasn't, but oh the mind plays tricks). He bolts, and Quackity can't do much aside from watch him dart into the White House. He doesn't have any special hearing, but he can faintly recognize the sound of a door shutting, or slamming in this instance. 

He thinks he should've kept his curiosity to himself.

When Quackity sees Tubbo next, the boy's hair is over his eyes again, and the only visible skin is a bit of his neck, his hands, and the lower half of his face. He avoids Quackity like the plague.

Schlatt grabs the small boy's shoulders, jostles him around a bit, laughs, and drags him off after a greeting that's so soaked in fake sugar that Quackity wants to puke. 

Tubbo comes back with a bruise forming on his jaw, cheek a little swollen.

"You wanted to show it off, didn't you?" Schlatt taunts. 

Quackity shivers, the temperature drops, and Schlatt drags Tubbo around to all of Manburg, tugging hair out of his eyes and letting everyone see. 

Nothing is hidden anymore, and Schlatt is more confident in his actions.

Quackity hates it.

He collects supplies quietly and wishes he'd never tried to pry, because he's supposed to be smart, and all he's done is make things worse for the boy he's supposed to protect. 

He copies Tubbo, eyes glued to the floor, and tries to make a plan.

(Wasn't he supposed to be smart?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah I do not like this chapter but 😐 what can ya do ig
> 
> I swear the writing will get better again cngncndnnx


	8. Tubbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Tubbo gets a break all week, he doesn't sleep a wink. 
> 
> Quackity keeps him company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brother bonding momence,,,,
> 
> This one is longer than the others lol
> 
> TW: implied/referenced physical, mental, and emotional abuse, injury, brief denial of mental/emotional abuse, mentions of alcoholism, Tubbo crying

Tubbo is fine. He swears.

As long as he does exactly what he's supposed to do, exactly the way it's supposed to be done, then he is fine. 

(His head really hurts)

If he keeps his hair over the top half of his face and his hands folded behind his back, he is fine. His suit is never wrinkled, so he is fine. 

(He knows the deep gash on the side of his left horn will never heal)

(The open nerves make his headache worse)

Tubbo becomes a ragdoll, something for Schlatt to drag around, toss around, mock. It's horribly different than being by Tommy's side.

Tommy's ‘mockery’ was joking and never crossed any lines. Tubbo was happy to follow him around. They never truly fought— the worst it ever got was a few playful shoves. 

Tubbo works all day and night without breaks, shaking from exhaustion and then pushing further. He can't see very well through swollen eyes and tears and curtains of hair, but he gets his work done anyway. 

He gets a break every… he's lost track, but he does get breaks. Usually when Schlatt is drunk off his rocker and too aloof to give a shit about what Tubbo does. Every three to four days, he thinks.

(It doesn't mean he ever gets much sleep, though)

(If his eyes weren't bruised by injury, they'd still be bruised by lack of sleep)

He's lucky that Schlatt has been out of commission all day, barely showing up at all. Tubbo hides away in his room, but does not lock his door. He's learned the hard way that locking it does nothing.

The clock hits twelve thirty am, and Tubbo sits at the edge of his bed. He's changed from his suit, though it still hangs dauntingly on the back of his door. It is replaced by a tank top and a set of red pajama pants Tubbo'd stolen from Tommy years ago. 

He misses his friend.

Tubbo stares at his arms, littered in bruises and small cuts in the shape of fingernail tips, all in various stages of healing. He supposes he should clean his injuries before they get infected and he becomes more of an issue. 

He brushes the hair out of his eyes and sets to work, though all he's got is a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a few bandaids, and one roll of bandages. He's worked with less before.

(There's no way he's sneaking out into the halls of the White House to find anything more, no way)

Quackity walks in as soon as the rubbing alcohol is opened, and Tubbo freezes. There's a moment of silence, but it quickly ends as Tubbo shoves the rubbing alcohol onto his bedside table so fast that a bit of it spills, favoring to hastily dive under his blanket like he can pretend that Quackity's seen nothing.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait— Tubbo, Tubbo, Tubbo— Tubbo it's okay, it's okay, it's just me, it's okay—" Quackity ducks into the room and shuts the door behind him quickly.

He raises his hands quickly, and from what Tubbo can see, there's something in one of them. A box. He pokes his head out a little more. It's a first aid kit, and Quackity's eyes are just as wide as his own.

"Please, I promise I'm not gonna hurt you, Tub, I promise."

It takes a few tense moments for Tubbo to listen. He slides the blanket away from his head and keeps his eyes on the older teen. 

(He thinks Quackity is trustworthy, he hopes he is)

Quackity motions at the blanket, and Tubbo removes it with a sigh. 

"Lemme help you."

Tubbo is quiet, then, "Okay."

He holds out his arms, and Quackity is quick to start his work. He sits next to the boy and opens the first aid kit. He makes quick work of cleaning out fresher wounds. Bruise salve is next, then bandaids. 

"Okay, okay, arms and shoulders are good. Is it okay if I check your nose?"

Tubbo grimaces a bit, "Yeah." 

With a nod, Quackity has Tubbo hold messy blonde hair away from his nose as he carefully prods around.

"How long's it been broken, dude?"

"A week, I think."

"A week? Jeez, you know you can come to me when you need help, right?"

Quackity's worried expression gets a little more taut as Tubbo focuses his gaze on the ground. 

"Don't worry, it's gonna be okay. I'm not mad at you, I'm just— fuck, I'm mad at him, y'know? He shouldn't be hurting you."

"He shouldn't be hurting you either."

"He doesn't." Quackity quickly defends himself. Tubbo doesn't reply. Quackity sighs.

"I'm gonna have to set it back in place, and that's gonna hurt like a bitch. Do you have anything you can bite?"

Tubbo looks around and eventually just balls up the neck of his tank top and bites down on that. He takes a deep breath, squeezes his eyes shut, and gives Quackity a thumbs up.

Quackity snaps the bone back into place as fast as he can and tries to ignore the barely suppressed whining noise that Tubbo makes at the pain. As soon as it's over, he's hugging the younger teen to his chest, wings wrapped around him as well, and telling him that _it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, you did it, it's over, it's okay._

Tubbo feels safe crying for the first time in a while, so cry he does. Quackity doesn't care that the shoulder of his pajama shirt is soaked through within a few minutes. The younger boy really needs to cry, Quackity gets it.

(If he cries as well, no one needs to know)

(His hair is down for the first time in months, it covers his face like Tubbo's)

(No one has to see)

When Tubbo has cried himself dry, he still doesn’t let go. It takes some coaxing from Quackity for the boy to finally pull back so that the older boy (because that’s all he is, isn’t he? Just another kid in this mess. Tubbo wishes he hadn’t been dragged into this) can finish patching him up. 

The bandages on his arms and shoulders will be easy to hide with his suit, but with his nose and eyes and jaw, it’ll be harder. Tubbo insists that Quackity leave those alone so that he doesn’t get into trouble. 

Quackity reluctantly agrees.

Both of them desperately need their sleep, but neither really want to. 

So Quackity turns around and lets Tubbo braid his hair messily, and they talk quietly about anything that comes to mind. About Tommy, about Wilbur, about Pogtopia, about Quackity’s numerous and annoying older siblings.

(never about Schlatt)

(Tubbo ignores how similar his nose would be to the man’s if it wasn’t currently snapped, ignores how his ears have a similar speckled pattern)

(Quackity does, too, doesn’t say a word)

(Tubbo is thankful)

(He still has someone in his corner on this side of the forest)

Quackity leaves three hours before dawn to go get some sleep. Tubbo pulls his suit on as soon as the older teen leaves. He waits for the sun to rise, watching it outside of his window.

He flattens out any wrinkles in his suit, brushes every single miniscule tangle out of his hair (though it will remain curly no matter what he does), and positions the blonde mess over his eyes and nose once again. 

(Tommy would tell him his hair is getting long. Tommy would pull him outside of the Camar Van and cut it for him)

He looks all sorts of professional and grown up. 

(He is only sixteen.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(


	9. Quackity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The set up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four more chapters,,,,,
> 
> TW: festival prep

Schlatt calls for a festival, a celebration of his presidency, though it's only been about three months.

It doesn't sit right with Quackity (and Quackity is _smart_ so he trusts his gut). He decides that he'll keep an eye on Schlatt, he'll make sure nothing goes wrong.

And then he's placed on decorations and repair duty with Tubbo and Karl, and he can't keep an eye on the president anymore. What he _can_ do, though, is make sure Tubbo doesn't get any more hurt than he already is. The two have spoken a lot more since Quackity snapped his nose back into place, and each time, Tubbo seems more and more tired, more out of it.

Karl notices the youngest boy's lethargy and barely-hidden shaking, so when he pulls Quackity to the side to ask about it, Quackity decides that Karl won't hurt Tubbo, that Karl is safe.

They agree to take on most of the work and let Tubbo direct them. When Fundy shows up, things get a little tricky, but he's occupied with setting the stage, and if he notices the imbalance of the load, he doesn't say anything.

(Quackity watches him with a careful eye)

(He doesn't think he should trust Fundy, but something tells him there's more that he doesn't know)

(He doesn't bother trying to figure any of it out)

He sets up stalls and signs and seats, Tubbo insisting on helping at least some. Karl throws colorful sheets and banners around the whole thing, to brighten it up.

(And brighten it up it does)

Tubbo relaxes a bit around the two of them, and Quackity is proud to say that he's gotten a laugh out of the boy. Tubbo even makes a small joke.

(Karl makes sure to laugh extra loud)

When it's all set up, Quackity lounges on one of the seats, stretching his wings out fully. 

" _God_ , that took forever!" He complains. He only half means it.

"It would've taken shorter if you'd let me help more," Tubbo says, and Karl stifles a laugh.

"Tubbo, if you think we're letting you do any work when you look so tired, you're so honking wrong! You need sleep, kiddo!"

Tubbo grumbles, embarrassed. Something along the lines of ' _not exactly my fault_ ' that Quackity knows Karl doesn't pick up on. Hybrid perks, he guesses.

They spend the rest of the day chatting, because Schlatt is fuck knows where, and none of them particularly want to go find him. 

Fundy leaves a bit later, and Tubbo starts dozing off. Karl and Quackity lower their voices, and Quackity drapes a wing over his mentally-declared younger brother like a blanket.

They talk until the sun starts to set, and Quackity stands with a stretch.

"Okay, I'm gonna get Toob over here to bed. See you at the festival?" He picks Tubbo up, carrying him on his back between his wings, ignoring how light the sixteen year old is.

Karl makes a face, "I'm gonna be honest Quackity, I don't have a good feeling about this festival. I'll do my best to show, but I can't guarantee it."

Quackity nods, "Hey, don't worry. Me too, honestly. If I wasn't VP, I don't think I'd show up either."

Karl nods.

"Just— stay safe, okay? Remember I've got houses scattered and hidden all around, you can camp out wherever you need." He reminds the suited boy.

"Will do. And thank you, so much, dude. You don't know how much you helped just by being here."

Quackity means it. He says his goodbyes and walks Tubbo back to the White House. Once the kid's all tucked in bed and metaphorically dead to the world, he heads to his own room.

Quackity changes into pajamas and doesn't bother to take his hair down. He has to put it back up tomorrow, anyway, so there really isn't a point.

As he settles into bed, laying on his side, he silently agrees with Karl.

He doesn't have a good feeling about tomorrow— not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story ends soon :0
> 
> Also I missed writing Karl interacting with people, so he's in this chapter for more than he was in canon
> 
> Also also, Karl is still a snow ore hybrid in this, but bc it's not TWPBIWO, he never disappeared or learned about it, so everyone including himself thinks he's human and just has shitty blood flow and that's why his hands r always cold  
> And that's on being skipped in the gene pool


	10. Tubbo, Quackity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl was right to avoid the festival. If only Quackity and Tubbo could've done the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm noticing how all of my Tubbo stories are told through other characters' eyes :*
> 
> TW: The Festival, explosions, executions, near death experiences, depiction of injury, blood, violence against children

The festival has Tubbo awake even earlier than usual.

He goes over his speech, goes over the decorations, double-triple-checks everything that could possibly be checked, and then tasks himself with doing paperwork until the actual festival starts. At three thirty pm, Tubbo is pulled out of his office by the arm and dragged to the festival stands.

He follows without complaint (and he doesn’t even want to complain, because that would end horribly) and listens to Schlatt talk about what needs to be fixed. 

Tubbo rearranges seats and stands for half an hour before the citizens of L’manburg start to make their appearances. He can pick out people in the crowd-- Fundy, Niki, Technoblade, if his eyes aren’t tricking him.

He does not see Tommy or Wilbur, and can only feel relief at that. He can’t stand the thought of them showing up just to get mauled or chased out again.

Schlatt makes a short speech, signalling the beginning of the festivities, the crowds cheer, and people disperse. There are a few boxing matches (Techno wins three in a row, Schlatt grins, Fundy is bruised, Tubbo tries not to flinch) and a small gathering by the dunking game. People skate at Tubbo’s rink, no one stops by Karl’s hugging booth (Karl is not there, or anywhere), and Niki makes good money with her bakery stand.

The festival lasts until the moon is high in the sky. Schlatt makes an announcement, that everyone is to head to the podium. It is time for the final ‘event’, which is really just the boring part: speeches. Tubbo hopes that he’ll be able to head to sleep after this, that Schlatt will drink himself dry, and that he will forget about Tubbo. 

Logically, Tubbo knows that that might not happen. But the festival is almost over, so that means that the horrible feeling in Tubbo’s gut might be for nothing, after all.

Schlatt makes his speech, hands the mic to Tubbo, and shoves him closer to the edge of the stage (“Don’t go spilling any secrets now, Tubbo”). Tubbo speaks with a rattling voice, and when he’s looking away from the crowd to calm his nerves, he sees them.

Wilbur and Tommy stand on the top of a nearby building, eyes trained on him. He’s had a code phrase written into his speech, but he isn’t sure he wants to say it. He knows people will die if he does, and he doesn’t want to see any more death. He is tired. So he doesn’t say the line, and he watches Wilbur’s shoulders tense a bit while Tommy’s relax.

And then Schlatt pats his back with more force than possibly necessary, “Is there anything else you wanna say, _Tubbo_?”

Tubbo feels his soul leave his body, and struggles to keep a hold on the mic. His hands have gone clammy and cold, yet sweaty at the same time. He feels like someone’s thrown him into the snows of Rutabagaville, and he can hardly repress a shudder.

“N-no, sir, Mr. President, Schlatt, sir,” He hates how his voice trembles, and in a moment of panic, he says the line, “With, uh, with that, let the festival begin!”

He shoves the mic to Schlatt like it’s burning his hands, and he knows that such a ‘violent’ action will come back to bite him later. Or now, he supposes, as Schlatt grins wolfishly.

“Okay, Okay, cool. Quackity, do me a favor and pull that--” Schlatt gestures to a lever on the far end of the stange, which Quackity points at, confused.

“Yeah, that. Just pull the fucking lever, Quackity, god be smart about this.”

Quackity’s face gains a dark undertone, but he walks over to the lever and pulls it anyway. It triggers something in the rafters hidden from the audience’s view, and Tubbo looks up in time to see something come crashing down towards him. He flinches violently, raising his arms up to shield himself as Quackity yells in surprise.

“Schlatt, what the _fuck_ is this?” He screeches, and Tubbo opens his eyes to see that a concrete and iron cage has been slammed down, perfectly around him. He doesn’t have room to move much.

Schlatt ignored Quackity, “I know what you’ve been up to, Tubbo.”

Tubbo can’t hide his shaking, falling back against the chair that Fundy had built the previous day. Fundy, who’s voice he can pick out in the panicked crowd. Fundy, who he cannot see, because his hair is in the way, and his eyes are welling up with bulbous tears, and the walls aren’t closing in, but fuck, they feel like they are.

“I’ve seen it with my own two fucking eyes!”

“Wh-” Tubbo can’t speak clearly, his stutter is drowned out. Quackity begs the question anyway.

“What did he do, Schlatt? What the hell is going on?”

“He’s been _conspiring_ with those _traitors_ , feeding them information! Ruining this great country!” Schlatt spits. Tubbo slides down, unable to hold his own weight up.

He can’t think, he can’t see, his ears ring so loudly that he thinks he might just die right then and there, and _oh gods, he’s going to die here, he’s only sixteen, he doesn’t want to die, please, please, please, please--_

It doesn’t register that he’s begging for his life vocally through a clogged throat and a red face. Tubbo’s never been a pretty crier. His tears are messy and they sting, snot runs from his nose, and he’s too shaky to wipe any of it away. His face contorts and twists as he begs, and he can’t hear what’s going on through his panic. 

He doesn’t want to die.

Why are they just watching him? 

Help, someone, please, gods, help him.

He does his damndest to come back to reality, but when he does, all he hears is screaming. Fundy, Niki, they scream and shout, yelling for Schlatt not to do this-- begging just as much as Tubbo is.

“Schlatt, he’s just a kid, please!”

“Come on, this--” Fundy tries to think like Schlatt, “this is a festival! You don’t want to ruin your festival, please! Schlatt, please don’t do this!”

Schlatt laughs so loudly that the microphone is barely needed, “This is no festival, Fundy _Soot_ , this is an execution! Technoblade, my dear old friend, come up here, would you?”

Techno stalks up the steps and Tubbo can feel himself fading away again. He looks up at Tommy and Wilbur, but all he can make out through hazy eyesight is Wilbur pacing, and Tommy leaning precariously close to the edge like he’s trying to tell Tubbo something.

Tubbo’s lost to his mind again, scrambling and shaking and heaving, and gods, he thinks he might puke if he hasn’t already. He isn’t sure if he has, but he can feel the acidic sting in the back of his throat rise anyway. He has enough control to clamp a shaky hand over his mouth, but it does little to stifle sobs and pleas, though it does help to cut off more air.

Tubbo thinks he’s going to pass out.

He hears one loud _click_ and is instantly thrown back into the fray once more, coming to just in time to see Techno level a fucking _firework in a loaded crossbow, oh gods,_ at his head. Quackity is screaming at Schlatt, the crowd wails, and oh gods, he’s only sixteen.

He’s just a kid, he’s just a kid, he’s just a kid, he’s just a-- “I’m sorry, Tubbo, I’ll make this as painless and colorful as possible.”

And Tubbo finds it in himself to let out the most raw, gut-wrenching, _ear-piercing_ scream (It feels like he’s trying to escape his body, like he’s tearing himself in half) only seconds before the trigger is pulled.

And Techno shoots twice.

And Tubbo’s crying stops.

And Quackity shrieks, but not loud enough to rival Tubbo’s guttural cry. He’s never heard anything louder than it, not even the fireworks that burn his skin red. No, he’ll never be able to stop hearing it. Never be able to stop hearing it, or Tommy’s scream afterward.

Schlatt is rendered unconscious by the firework, and Quackity silently mocks his low tolerance. 

(He hopes that Schlatt is dead)

Quackity’s wings are singed and burnt, and his mother would fret over him and curse him out for trying to fly with them like this, but he makes eye contact with Tommy and then rushes for the cage. He doesn’t process Tommy pearling down, or Techno firing into the crowd, or Tommy trying to get him to stop.

Quackity does what he does best right then and there, and tunes it all out.

There is smoke everywhere, clogging his throat and his eyes, and he can smell burning flesh that he knows isn’t his. He pulls Tubbo out, mangled and burnt and bleeding, and if it wasn’t for his horns (one is snapped clean off, the other is only half there) or his pale blonde hair (which is burnt black at the tips and matted with blood everywhere else), he’s not sure he would recognize the kid.

What feels like hours is just half-seconds, where he drags Tubbo up in his arms, turns, and runs. When he’s far enough away from Technoblade, he spreads his wings and takes off mid-sprint. He flies as high as he possibly can, and tucks his wings close to his back.

(and just in case he misses, he curls his body around his little brother)

The wind from the fall stings so fucking bad, but he needs the momentum if he’s to make it far enough. 

He hits his mark, splashing under the water and spreading his wings at the last second. Tubbo is smart, Quackity thinks, making the tunnels. The power of the fall allows Quackity to glide down the tunnel at a pace that he could not run. A few well-placed flaps of his demolished wings gives him just enough of a boat to get him almost entirely down the tunnel that spans much longer than he remembers it being.

His landing is rough, but he doesn’t let Tubbo take any more damage. He can’t tell if the boy is breathing, but if he is, Quackity can’t risk hurting him further.

(He can’t tell if Tubbo is alive, or if the warmth is from their combines burns)

(Tubbo is still bleeding, so Quackity thinks he’s alive)

Quackity props the younger boy up against the wall, ignoring how limp he looks. He can see his shoulders rise and fall minutely. Tubbo is alive. Quackity sobs in relief.

It doesn’t last long, though. He knows he has to leave, he has to just hope that Tubbo makes it. He pulls out his comm tablet and shakily writes a message.

_**Quackity:** tubnells asap tubo now pogtop ia _

_**Quackity:** ehs alive, urt, help now now now now nownwnwo nowo onow_

He shoves the tablet away and pulls himself to his feet.

“Tubbo, I’m so,so sorry, please, please just live, okay bud? It’s gonna be fine. I have to go. Please, kid, make it.” Quackity whispers, and he does not care which language he’s said it in. His head hurts too much and he’s nowhere near close enough to reality to pay attention. 

He turns and runs, and he runs, and he runs. When he breaks the surface, he’s glad that no one sees him. It was too chaotic for anyone to know he’d left in the first place. He pulls himself up to the grass and sprints for the podium again. He comes from the back, unnoticed, and he can’t believe that the smoke is still settling. No one’s eyes were on the sky. He’s safe for another day.

He funnels his worry for Tubbo into faking it for Schlatt. He kneels next to the man and feigns concern, shaking the man awake. He purposefully digs his nails into his arms as hard as he can, because Schlatt fucking deserves it, he knows. 

“Sir, Schlatt! Mr. President! Get up, we need to go, now! Techno’s fucking lost it, man! Up, up, before he kills you, too!”

Schlatt believes him, and Quackity drags him to the White House. When Schlatt is fully unconscious again, Quackity checks his comms.

_**TommyInnit:** holy shit, thnk you so much _

Quackity shoves Schlatt to the nursing staff and lets himself cry. He lies and tells them it’s from the pain.

(But is he really fully lying?)

(He doesn’t care. He’s crying for at least a million reasons, and all he knows is that one of those is knowing that Tubbo has a chance)

(He's smart enough to have saved him that)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost done, laddies
> 
> But ow, man, ow


	11. Quackity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He has one more job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there's warnings for this chapter that you should rlly read
> 
> TWs: murder, blood, vomit, injuries, mention of broken bones, mention of panic attacks, brief emotional abuse, a lot of crying, vague implications of running away

Quackity is nineteen years old and he isn’t sure of how smart he is anymore. 

His wings are fucked up, his hands, arms, and bits of his torso and face are burnt, and he’s never felt so small as he sits in the infirmary, one bed away from Schaltt. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near the man, but he’ s vice president, so he’s been put in the same room. Fundy dozes in a bed in the far corner.

Quackity is the only one awake, sitting at the edge of his bed (the furthest he can get from Schlatt without being reprimanded for being out of bed), and thinking. He checks his comms every few minutes, but he hasn’t gotten anything from Tommy since the rushed thanks. He’s worried.

(He doesn’t know why he’s scared to message him)

(Some small bit of him is scared that Tubbo’s died, and that that’s the reason for the radio silence)

(He reminds himself that Tommy would’ve come in here and killed Schlatt himself if that had happened)

(But not before going after Techno)

Quackity reaches for the trashcan when he realizes that if Tommy went after Technoblade, he wouldn’t have made it either.

He cries for another hour.

* * *

He gets one day of peace before Schlatt wakes up. 

The president has him working as soon as he opens his mouth, and something snaps in Quackity. What right does this guy have to shove him around and treat him like shit? Especially after he’s been injured? 

(Anger pools in his gut as he realizes for the nth time that this is what’s been happening to Tubbo for months)

(He knows now why the poor kid hadn’t done anything about his injuries until Quackity made him— he wasn’t allowed the time)

He wasn’t sure why he’d come back before, but he knows why now. He’s got unfinished business, and he can’t leave it to someone else. He’s the only one he can trust in ‘Manburg’. He always thought that was a stupid name.

Schlatt rattles on about how badly the execution— not the festival, the _execution_ — had gone, about how Tubbo had ‘even fucked up his own death’. He turns his criticisms toward Quackity, which the teen could usually take, but he’s being jabbed at during the worst possible time.

“Damn, you look like shit. How long have you been up? Longer than me. You could stand to at least try to look nicer, you know,” Schlatt waves a hand at Quackity, “I mean, look at you: your hair’s all messy, you got all those bandages, and why the hell are you still in hospital clothes? Don’t you know you’ve got work to do? Jeez, it’s like I’m the only one trying around here.”

Quackity’s hair is a mess, he’ll admit, he hasn’t brushed it since before the festival, and his bun had come out somewhere between Techno firing shots and Quackity getting Tubbo the fuck out of there. 

The rest, though, is entirely uncalled for. He balls his fists in the sheets and bites back a, “You’re one to talk.”

Quackity understands Tubbo’s fear. Schlatt’s face gets dark, “You’re smarter than that, Quack.”

“Yeah,” He replies, a rush of confidence boosting him, “And I’m also smart enough to see through your bullshit. You tried to execute a _kid_ , Schlatt. He was three years younger than me!”

“And maybe I should’ve shoved you in that cage, too!” Schlat growls. Quackity stands up abruptly.

(He’s lucky that no one else is there, that Fundy’s injuries were minor and he’d been released last night, that the walls are soundproof for confidentiality)

(He has one more job, just one)

“Fuck you, man, fuck you.”

“Oh, is the little boy gonna cry now? Is that it, Quackity? Gonna cry and go tell your mommy on me? Oh wait, you ran off and left mommy all alone! No one’s here to help you. You are _alone_.” The president sneers.

(Ex-president, Quackity thinks)

“Actually, sir, I think you should be calling the one for mommy right about now,” There aren’t that many sharp objects in the infirmary that Quackity has access to, so he’s had to make his own. It’s a crappy little shank, made of splint wood and a bit of metal that he’s pulled off of one of his wings, but it’ll do.

Schlatt doesn’t see it until Quackity’s buried it deep between his ribs. If Quackity bothered to learn about anatomy, he would’ve purposefully hit Schlatt’s lungs to make his death longer, but he supposes that as long as he dies, it doesn’t matter where he gets hit.

Schlatt looks like a fish out of water with his gaping mouth and wide, bulging eyes. Quackity twists the shank a little and watches the man writhe.

“This is for Tubbo. This is for L’manburg. This is for me. This—” Quackity likes to think that he isn’t nauseous as he presses further down, “This is for everything you’ve done to us, to this place.”

“This isn’t a smart choice, kid—” Schlatt wheezes, but Quackity stops him, pulling the shank out and bringing it back down.

“This is the smartest thing I’ve ever done in my fucking life.”

Schlatt stops moving, and Quackity pulls the shank out again. The contents of his stomach end up on the floor next to the pooling blood that drips from Schlatt’s bed. The makeshift weapon drops from his hands, and he does his damn best not to cry, because Schlatt was horrible and deserved what came to him, but Quackity is only nineteen, and he’s just killed a man.

He stands on shaky legs for a few moments more before turning to the window. He has to get out of here, but he’s covered in blood, and if someone sees that and then Schlatt, he’s in deep shit. He fumbles at the lock and swings the glass pane open. He’s on the second floor, but he can probably glide down if he angles his wings right. 

And then the door behind him slides open and he hears someone scream— probably a nurse— and that startles him into a free-fall. He knows there will be guards after him now, or whatever they’re calling security these days. Quackity tucks, but he doesn’t quite roll. 

On top of nausea from just having committed murder, he’s pretty sure his wing’s just broken, again. 

Quackity stands as fast as possible and starts running as fast as he can (which isn’t too fast at the moment). The guards catch up with him soon enough, and one grabs his hair, yanking harshly. He almost falls backward, coming to a stop as he struggles to get free. His panicking gaze lands on the guard’s belt, and he could cry from the relief of seeing a dagger. 

He doesn’t stop to think before darting his hand out to grab it and roughly sawing off the feet of length that the man holds. He does not let go of the dagger as he starts running again. He doesn’t stop running, even when he reaches the forested border of L’manburg, and he doesn’t stop when he can’t hear them anymore. Quackity is pretty sure his lungs are giving out on him. That, or he’s having a panic attack. Neither are super helpful right now.

He feels the hand before he sees it, reaching out from the brush and grabbing him by the arm. He shrieks, and he’ll admit that. The hand pulls him into the brush, but instantly lets go. Quackity’s panicked eyes meet dark blue ones that are filled with a mixture of concern, fear, and probably a bit of disgust, and Quackity almost starts crying again.

“Holy fuck, what happened, Big Q? Y’look like shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this is where it starts getting better, I pinkie swear
> 
> The implications of Quackity running away are for no bad reason, he just got tired of being the youngest one in a huge family and being babied, so he ran away, found L'Manburg, and then things went to shit and he kinda wants to go back home


	12. Quackity, Tubbo, Niki, Tommy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And a little beam of hope makes it's way into the dark ravine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're almost done :"
> 
> But!!! That means that the happy ending is soon :]
> 
> TW: implied abuse, implied attempted murder, referenced injury, injury, implied dissociation, unreality, introspection, mentioned blood, mentioned murder, mentioned vomit, mentioned running away

Quackity spends the next few weeks hiding out with Tommy, Tubbo, Wilbur, Niki, and Techno. Techno, who he avoids at all costs (and so does Tubbo).

Tubbo is more scar than skin, and he’s still getting the hang of walking properly, now that his balance has been thrown off by the almost complete lack of horns. His movements are jerky and stumbling, scar tissue pulling tight, and pain forcing limps.

Most of the time, he leans on Tommy or Quackity as he walks, sometimes Niki, if she’s there. Usually just Tommy, though. He won’t let Tubbo out of his sight, and rightfully so. Wilbur’s gone off the deep end, and Techno isn’t to be trusted. Niki hides away most of the time, but when she’s around, she offers medical attention and a shoulder to cry on.

Tommy doesn’t like leaving Tubbo alone, and hates passing him off to Quackity, but as he said once, Quackity is ‘the only motherfucker that hasn’t motherfucked us over, other than Niki’, so he doesn’t complain too terribly much.

Tommy, Tubbo, and Quackity crowd into Tommy’s room at night, and every time, Tommy seals the door and tells them that it’s safe that way. Safer for Tubbo, who’s reaction time is severely impacted by wounds that are still healing. Safer for Quackity, who is stitched back together, but can't handle the possibility of killing again. Safer for Tommy, who sleeps closest to the door in case Techno or Wilbur find a way in.

Niki is safe, safe at Eret’s castle. She tells them that she’s going to figure out how to get all four of them out of the ravine.

They are only nineteen and sixteen. Niki is afraid for them. 

Niki is only nineteen. 

(She feels so much older, leading a rebellion within a rebellion, with tangled blonde hair tied out of the way, and the old L’manburg flag tied tight around her waist. It is still burnt, but she keeps it anyway. Her hard work will not go to waste, and she will not let her family suffer any longer. She will take them home and hold them long into the night. She will chase their terrors away with a torch and pitchfork.)

Quackity is only nineteen.

(He feels unreal, his young age stopped meaning anything to him long ago. His age does not matter when he runs from home, or when he kills a president, or when he cries into a child’s shoulder while wearing a shirt stained with blood and vomit and tears. He looks far different from the little boy his mama sang songs to. The hair she used to braid is gone with a dagger’s messy work, covered by a dusty red beanie he found in the corner of the cave.)

Tommy is only sixteen.

(He feels so much younger, and overcompensates by screaming about how grown he is. What he does not say is how he acts grown for his older brothers, cleaning up their messes and sitting in the blood of their mistakes, talking them down and taking their screams like a steady wall in the wind— He wants his dad.)

Tubbo is only sixteen.

(He feels detached and cold, but he supposes that is better than feeling like he’s being burnt alive. He struggles with hands that are bandaged, not from fun squabbles, but blazing fireworks, and he does not tell anyone of his pain. He knows they can tell anyway, but if he pretends he's okay, it'll be fine. He’ll be fine, he tells himself, as his family rips apart at the seams)

Niki spends the night in the cave a total of three times. The first two are for the first two nights that Tubbo is back, and she stays up through both. She can’t tell if that is because of her worry for Tubbo, or her new fear of Techno and Wilbur. 

The third time, she sits up in the dark of Tommy’s locked-off room and thinks to herself for a long time. Quackity wakes up before Tommy or Tubbo, and so they talk. It isn’t a lengthy conversation— they’ve been thinking the same thing.

“Quackity—”

“Niki—”

Niki stops, and so does Quackity. They wait in silence for a few more minutes before Niki takes the reins. The boy across from her gestures for her to go first, anyway.

“I think,” She sighs, looking at the fitfully sleeping forms of the two sixteen year olds, “I think it is time to leave. All of us.”

“Me too,” Quackity nods quickly, “Past time, actually, but I don’t have anywhere we could take ‘em.” He frowns, explaining quietly. 

Niki gives him a look of determination, and a tight smile.

“I know a place. We can leave tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Niki: I'm the mom now  
> Quackity: no, you're a kid too, we all need some fucking help  
> Niki: ok. Let's run away.


	13. Tommy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end, folks :')
> 
> TW: running away, disowning, implied abuse, mentioned injury, distrust

The thing about running away is that it’s so much easier than Tommy thought it would be.

Their plan is shit, and he doesn’t think it’ll work. He’s sure that Wilbur will call their bluff, that Technoblade (not Techno, he doesn’t get a nickname anymore) will strike them dead in seconds. But Niki pulls out her puppy eyes and slumped shoulders and weary voice and asks.

“Wil, please, I do not know when I can come back. There is so much more security, now that Schlatt is dead. May I please have a moment with them as I leave? I want to make sure that they will take care of each other properly, and I want my last memory of them to be above the ground, in the sun, free like they should be. Please, Wil, they are just boys.”

Wilbur frowns in thought, and then Quackity steps up with his line.

“I can go with them, if it helps any. Supervision and shit, yeah?”

Wilbur thinks for a moment longer, then sighs, “Okay. But be quick, we don’t know who’s watching. And don’t let anyone see you come back in.”

He turns, and with a dramatic flare of his jacket, he is gone. Tommy can’t believe it. Their luck is incredible— Technoblade is in his farm, he never says good-bye. So Tommy wraps Tubbo’s arm over his shoulder, takes most of his weight, and pulls him up the steps slowly behind Quackity.

(“If I walk first, he’ll believe it more. You can’t ‘run’ past me.”)

Niki follows, upping the act by looking around the cave as if she’ll miss it. She doesn’t quite take any of it in, and she never will. She is not coming back, and her small bag holds everything that Tommy and Quackity had in that cave that mattered (it holds nothing of theirs, only medical supplies and what Niki had already brought with her).

Tommy tells himself that he won’t miss it, either. But when he puts thought into it, he realizes that he really won’t. It was built on exile and pain and blood and tears. Looking back, it was mostly his pain, and his blood, and his tears. He realizes he hates it, as he leads Tubbo out of the dirt shack.

He hates it, because it houses the men that hurt him and his friends. It houses traitors and assholes and snivelling little bitches, he thinks. It houses his brothers, but he hasn’t called them that in weeks. Once the entrance is sealed, Niki nods at them.

Tommy and Quackity help Tubbo onto the horse Niki’s been using, but it’s less ‘helping’ and more so picking the short boy up and plopping him in the front. Tommy climbs on behind him as Quackity leads the skeletal horse out of it’s pit for him and Niki. 

Once the two oldest teens have clambered on, Niki in front, they head out. Niki takes the lead at a mildly fast pace, and Tommy keeps up. Quackity keeps looking back, making sure that Tommy and Tubbo are still there, making sure that Technoblade and Wilbur aren’t following. Tubbo’s leaned against the horse’s neck, and Quackity grimaces.

The kid isn’t even close to being safe for travel, but this is the only time they can possibly leave. Quackity really wishes that the world would stop making Tubbo tough it out. He looks toward Tommy, and then back to Niki. He wishes none of them had to tough it out. 

Niki leads them over hills, around lakes, and through at least three different types of forests before Tommy feels safe enough to complain.

“This is taking forever!” He groans, “Are we there yet?”

Niki laughs, “Almost, but be sure to be quiet. We are close to the rest of the SMP, and I do not know if people are looking for you and Quackity this far out.”

Tommy huffs, rolls his eyes, and complies. He’s pretty sure that Tubbo is asleep again. He frowns. They’re almost safe. Almost.

The trees thin out eventually, and Tommy looks up at the scariest fucking building he’s ever seen. It looks like it’ll collapse with a strong enough gust of wind, and the glass is a sickly green. It’s two stories of absolute distrust, in Tommy’s eyes, but Niki leads her and Quackity’s horse closer.

“Coconut!” Niki whispers loudly, then snaps three times, waits a second, and claps once. 

The doors swing open, and Tommy backs his horse up a bit. Karl pretty much trips out of the building, barely catching himself on the last step. Following him is H, who has at least some grace. 

(As much grace as a cat hybrid gets, at least, Tommy thinks as H smacks into the corner of the doorway)

They’ve each got a backpack with them, but H hands his to Quackity, “This is for you guys. Niki said you didn’t have much, and I know we’re headed—”

“Hold on, ‘ _we_ ’? Niki, what is this?” Tommy asks with a scowl. Karl darts behind the building and comes back with a llama. Of course it’s a fucking llama.

“H is leading us the rest of the way,” Niki says, “My directions get worse from here on. Karl is coming with us. You do not have to trust them, but please trust me.” She pleads.

Tommy stares them all down for a solid minute, watching H and Karl hop onto the llama, and decides that those two won’t stand a chance if they’re to attack. He sighs as loudly as he dares.

“Fine. _Fine_. Let’s just go already. Tubbo’s gonna fucking freeze if we stay out here anyway.”

So they head out, two young adults, two old teens, two children, two horses, a llama, and a run away plan that only three of them fully know.

* * *

Tommy finally sees H and Niki slow down when the sun starts to set and the trees start to thin again. He’s only really been staring at their backs, but now he looks up. Behind tall, thick pine trees, he can sort of see a wall, and it isn’t far away. It is made of stone bricks and Tommy feels a pang of familiarity.

He thinks he knows where they are, and he isn’t happy about it. He pulls his horse to a full stop, which Quackity realizes instantly.

“Tommy? What’s wrong?” He asks. Niki and H stop.

“I’m not going in there, and I’m not bringing Tubbo in there either. You can’t make us.”

“Tommy?” Karl asks.

“You can’t make me.” Tommy repeats firmly.

“Tommy…” Niki says softly.

“No!”

“Tommy, please, they’re the only one willing to house us. They won’t even tell Sch—”

“They blew me and Tubbo up before, they let that green fuck and his friends in, they’ve betrayed us before! I’m not letting them do it again, ‘specially because of Tubb—” Tommy stops himself.

The six are quiet.

“I’m not letting them hurt us again.” Tommy whispers.

Quackity mulls over his options and reaches a careful hand out, “Schlatt is dead. Eret has no one to turn you over to. Dream and his friends haven’t been heard of in months. I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise.”

“Did you promise Tubbo that, too?” Tommy knows it’s harsh and uncalled for when Quackity’s hand flinches back and drops to his side.

“ _Tommy_!” Niki gasps, almost appalled.

“Look, I don’t wanna let me or him get hurt anymore! Is that too much to ask? No one keeps their promises around here, anyway! And Technoblade and Wilbur are still out there, so you don’t _know_ that _king fuckass_ won’t hand us right back over!”

“Wh’s g’n on…?” Tommy immediately shuts up and looks down at Tubbo, who’s blinking blearily and trying his best to look around. 

“T’mmy?”

Tommy looks at the others, at the wall, and gods he hopes he looks as pissed off and afraid as he feels.

“Nothing, big man.” He says thickly, “We’re almost there. Go back to sleep or something.”

“Oh, ‘mk.” 

Silence hangs in the air like a winter blanket until they can all hear Tubbo’s deep breathing even out. Tommy glares at all of them (Tubbo excluded).

“I hate this, I hate you, and I’m never gonna forgive you for this. If my friend wasn’t half-dead, I’d have fucked off ages ago.” He grumbles. He watches Niki turn around sadly, and he watches H start leading them again reluctantly.

Tommy thinks that he’s valid for being afraid. Tubbo would say he is, if Tubbo hadn’t gotten blasted to smithereens or wasn’t unconscious right now. 

Tommy follows them into the back entrance to Eret’s castle.

* * *

Eret welcomes them with open arms and asks no questions. Tommy glares at them as harshly as he can. The smile at him with something he takes as pity (it isn't. It's mourning for a child that never got to grow up on his own time, mourning for a little boy that became a soldier before he became a man, mourning a little boy who still isn't a man).

They each get their own room in the castle, but Tubbo doesn't want to be alone (he cries when they try to leave the first time, and Tommy won't leave him ever again), and Quackity doesn't want to leave Tommy and Tubbo alone in such a big place, and Niki doesn't want to leave any of them alone, and Karl doesn't like the silence of his room, and H is worried for them.

They end up in Tubbo's room, blankets strewn across the enormous room. Tubbo sleeps soundly in the big bed, fresh bandages and salves covering him almost entirely. Tommy thinks he looks like a damn mummy. 

The louder of the two blondes has shoved himself into the bed as well— both an old habit and a safety measure. He stares at the ceiling, wide awake as the others sleep around the floor. 

Tommy groans to himself, and rolls to the side of the bed, where he knows Quackity is sleeping the world away. He reaches down and shakes the older boy until he wakes up.

"Huh? What's goin' on— Tommy?"

Tommy stares at him for a few moments before sighing, "I said a shitty thing earlier. So sorry."

As quickly as he can, Tommy scoots back into the bed, unwilling to face the answer. He doesn't trust it to be positive.

The next morning, though, Quackity sends him a smile and says, "It's okay. You were scared."

It's okay.

They were all just scared. 

But, Tommy thinks, looking at his friends (and H and Karl too, he _guesses_ ), they're safe now.

Tubbo can't stop smiling when Tommy tells him that.

* * *

\- fin -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! It's over! The end!!!!
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoyed this!!!! Another story will be showing up soon, promise!!! But for now, this one is over.
> 
> This probably doesn't sound like a super big accomplishment, but this is the first story I've actually ever finished!!!!!!! I'm proud of myself :]
> 
> Make sure to eat something, hydrate, and get enough sleep! I love you all /p!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's a bit short, but I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> My instagram is 8bit.rabb1t if you ever want to stop by and say hello!


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